This post has been a long time coming, and I apologize for the delay. Between work, life, and actually getting out in the ocean, it’s been harder than I thought to carve the time to chronicle my aquatic misadventures.

As I wrote in my last post, about 2 weeks ago southern swells were hitting the shores of Los Angeles, creating waves that were fantastic for good surfers, but dangerous for kooks like me! After nearly drowning, I had to take a day off, and skip my usual Sunday session. Suddenly something that had seemed beautiful, calming, and pure fun had been twisted into something dangerous and frightening. I don’t mind admitting that the whole experience left me shaken and scared.

I saw an interview with Gerry Lopez, in which he described the experience of wiping out in Pipeline on the North Shore. He said it was so scary, that even though you usually survived, you died a little bit… That was exactly how I felt. For the rest of the week, I had a strange sense of detachment. Part of me was missing, scared into hiding by the brutal beating the ocean inflicted on me, or maybe lost out in the rolling waves, still struggling to get in from the impact zone. I knew what I needed to do… I needed to get back on the horse.

I’m proud to say I stuck with my action items from my last post. I stepped up the cardio section of my workout. I continued to practice my balance and pop-up drills. and most importantly, I went to the doctor, and had my lungs checked. Turned out I had been suffering a mild case of Asthma all along, and didn’t even know it! I’m sure that contributed to my lack of breath that day.

Finally, the weekend came, and I prepared to get back in the saddle. On Friday, I tried out a new spot, legendary Bay street in Santa Monica, home of the famous Z Boys. Numerous sources listed this as a good beginner’s beach, but when I pulled up and surveyed the surf, I had my doubts.

That Friday was the last day of the swells, and the waves still looked pretty big to me. They built up, and closed out fast. The tide was very low, giving the impression that the waves were crashing down in knee high water… It just didn’t look good to me. I gave it a shot, and paddled out, but something didn’t feel right.

I caught one, but fell over in my pop-up. The waves were breaking in pretty shallow water, but they were very weak, and didn’t have much of strength to them. I got up, tried one more time, and then decided to get out. The water was black and glassy, there was a low fog in the air, and bottom line… I was still spooked. I talked to a surfer in the parking lot who got out the same time I did, and he said it was a good beginner’s beach, but that it was better to come at high tide. I may try the spot again, but I have heard the water is terribly polluted there, so we’ll see.

I went hiking with me wife up on Mount Baldy the next day, so surfing was out. I didn’t get back into the water till the following Sunday. I went back to my usual spot. I even took a picture of the waves, although I think my camera is a little broken right now…

It was the most important surfing experience of my life. No, I wasn’t suddenly a world class surfer, or pulling off floaters or anything. I did catch a lot of waves, but more importantly, the fun was back. By sticking to waves I could handle, I had a blast! I wasn’t so afraid of wiping out, so I tried to get a bunch more waves. And the more you try for, the more you get! I even ran into a couple guys I knew, who I hadn’t seen at the beach in a while. Chris and Chris, nice surfing with you guys!

My paddling and wave catching abilities are improving, But I still need a lot of work on my pop-up, and keeping my balance. Once I get that down, maybe I can learn to actually turn! We’ll see how this weekend goes. But either way, I am humbled and grateful that I was able to get back on that horse, and get back to enjoying the stoke of surfing. I feel like the ocean has given me back that missing piece of myself. It’s a feeling I won’t soon forget.